


show me everything

by allMessedup



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Character(s) of Color, F/M, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 11:23:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18619648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allMessedup/pseuds/allMessedup
Summary: How strange, a woman who seemed as if she had fallen out of the sky and right into his bureau, stranded in an unfamiliar country and honestly, she was too sheltered for her own sake.But he wasn’t so heartless that he’d let her simply lay on the sides of the road and rot away. He wanted to be , God knew he did, but what could someone who could barely speak to the locals do- stutter out a barely tangible rumour?Still, he’s taken care to not let her know anything, taken too much care to make sure she doesn’t find anything out.





	show me everything

He probably could stand to be a bit less heartless. But he honestly could probably also stand to be a bit more careful, more tense and suspicious and always waiting for the next person to jump at him with a knife and rope. 

Or with a pretty girl. 

“Please sir, just for a few days. I’ll be up and gone in a bit.” 

Malik found it hard to believe, and found it unbelievably daring that this random girl could run around on the rooftops and hop into the Assassin’s bureau seemingly randomly with no connections or knowledge of what it was.

This was surely a trap.

“How did you find this place?” He demanded, tone sharp and cutting, and a part of him swelled when he saw her flinch. Surely she was part of the crusaders, or perhaps a stupid burnt lover of someone Altair had cut down in another city. He didn’t know of any of the family, but she sure was not a native with her stuttering Arabic, and nervous, fleeting gaze as she looked around the bureau. 

“I saw an opening as I was talking to one of the guards on the rooftops. He chased me away quickly, told me the roofs were a dangerous place for a woman, and I ran here.”

“And you jumped in without reason?” 

“I need a place to stay.”

He had to admit, the crusaders were smart. Were he less jaded, less angry with one more arm, he’d be slightly more accepting and accommodating to a beautiful woman. Maybe if they had placed her in Damascus with that story, with old and kind Jabal who had twinkling eyes and a perpetual smile, they had stood a better chance. Perhaps if she was a travelling tailor in Acre, looking for silk from Rafik with tinkling bells for a laugh and a benevolent smile to charm and disarm, they had stood a better chance.

Unfortunately, he was neither old and kind, nor easily captivated by women. While she was gorgeous, long dark waves cascading down her back and over a delicate frame, and aquamarine doe eyes that stood out and shone like stars, her story was hard to believe. Surely she could have come up with something better, more believable. A spy was smart, and cunning, and surely she hadn’t thought that her looks would get her taken in by someone like him.

“Leave, and never come back. I don’t take strangers in.”

“Please sir!”

“Leave.”

He saw her deflate, eyes drooping and lips falling into a frown, before they curled down and let out a sigh. She made a show of standing up, carefully and slowly brushing off any miniscule dirt off of her skirt, glancing at him for a few short seconds every so often as if she was waiting for him to change his mind. His scowl stayed as he turned towards the door to the front of his shop, opening it up for her and gesturing towards her exit, watchful eyes trained on her. She slowly padded to the door, head down and hands folded in front of her, eyes still occasionally glancing as if he’d change his mind. 

She had some guts, he’d give her that. Still, it did nothing but make him even more suspicious. There were hotels around, and judging by how well-kept she was and the quality of her clothes, she wasn’t awfully strapped for cash. There were even monasteries filled to the brim with Christians who would have been willing to take her in without fear or suspicion, if she was short on cash. Though, he figured that she would simply return to her Crusader master after her little act, ears drooping like a lost dog looking for shelter as she approached her master, looking for pity from him like she did there.

What happened after was none of his business. He found it hard to pity her at the moment, even with this elaborate charade. A gorgeous lady, dressed in fine silks, almost collapsed on the floor in the assassin’s bureau, looking for a place to stay and claiming that she jumped in by chance. A tall story, and even if it were true, he’d only take her in when a werewolf howled during a blue moon. 

He watched her walk away, skirt swaying with her every movement, creating silken waves on the ground with every step. He watched her look around, hair following every shake of her head and making her hair bounce around, and there’s a part of him that knows that she’s truly lost, and could very easily get jumped on and stripped of everything. 

He knows he’d hate to see someone like her, turning everyone’s heads as she nervously glanced around the marketplace, men’s eyes locked on her and thieves wolfing down her dress with their eyes, get hurt and the sensitive part of him wants to walk up to her and help her look for a place to stay. 

But he knows how these things are, and he wasn’t about to lose his position and get laughed at for letting his guard down and allowing a foreign woman into the bureau. He wasn’t going to let a little girl play him like a fool.

He wasn’t going to risk being the next idiot to compromise the brotherhood.


End file.
